


Please, Don't Say Thank You

by NekoAbunai



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fae Reader - Freeform, Female Reader, Fluff, Magic, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 16:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20696888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAbunai/pseuds/NekoAbunai
Summary: If the fair folk do you any favors, don’t say thank you. To be indebted to a fae is a dangerous thing indeed. But if you want to show gratitude to a fae, give them a small trinket -- they have no use for gold or the kind of power politics will offer them. To have a fae indebted to you, though, is also a dangerous thing.I have lots of ideas, but no place to put them. Receive my terrible ideas.





	Please, Don't Say Thank You

One thing about the surface, Papyrus thought to himself, is that it is huge. The tall skeleton could appreciate that, having grown up in the underground, where some spots were too low and he’d have to bend down. Even entering his own home, required a bow to step in. The skeleton had to appreciate the openness of the outside. He didn’t ever fear the ceiling of the sky was too low or that if he reached up to stretch, he’d tap a stalagmite… or was it stalactite?

Whatever the infernal thing was, Papyrus was glad there were so many great things on the surface to lose himself in. Education was one of those things. Monsters with their gold and access to precious gems under the earth had left each monster set for life on the surface, though many still took jobs just to meet people, set a routine, or just to get out of the house and enjoy the surface. Papyrus, though, had a reputation to keep as Mascot of all Monsterkind, and what better way to prepare for his job than getting a degree in a Human art, cooking.

Not everyone was accepting of a monster in college, but they couldn’t just turn away the money he’d offer. Of course, professors graded him harshly and he’d had to retake certain classes, spilling more money toward his education, yet moving at a snail’s pace to get anywhere. He’d gone to tutoring, checked his math with his brother, and spent many nights awake studying, but some teachers just didn’t accept his work or they “lost it” so his grade sunk and sunk. Only on tests did he manage to scrape by, prejudices held against Papyrus couldn’t be shown.

But there was some good at college, he’d made a friend with a bookworm. While Cedric didn’t have the passion the skeleton lived by, the human certainly had the smarts and flattery to secure a place in Papyrus’ life. He’d invite the human to eat spaghetti and study, which Cedric always accepted.

Unfortunately, the skeleton thought, staring at his human classmate yelling at him, some people’s hatred is huge on the surface, too. The young man’s face was twisted with anger and spittle was flying as he berated Papyrus. The skeleton knew better than to engage this man while he was in this state, eyes moving to look down at his spaghetti which had been thrown against the wall, marinara painting the drywall of the classroom.

“Why the fuck would I want some nasty-ass spaghetti, you monster?” his classmate had gotten loud enough that Papyrus gave him back his attention, still refraining from saying anything. “What the fuck did you put in it this time, sequins?”

“ACTUALLY,” Papyrus raised a finger. “THE SEQUINS WERE LAST WEEK!” He plucked a noodle from the wall and pointed at it. “THERE’S GLITTER, BUT, REALLY HUMAN, IF YOU CAN’T EAT IT, JUST TELL ME! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALWAYS STRIVES TO IMPROVE HIMSELF!”

His classmate’s face turned red, flushed with rage. “You tried to feed me fucking _ glitter _?!” The human threw his hands in the air. “I can’t eat fucking glitter! You’re lucky Cedric told me it was nasty as hell, or else I might have actually taken a bite! What kind of sick freak feeds someone else glitter?!”

There was a lot to unpack there, but Papyrus focused in on Cedric’s name. His friend Cedric. He looked to the side of the classroom his one human friend sat in, hoping to find some form of support.

There, with a thick book cracked open, was the single human friend Papyrus had made. Cedric approached Papyrus. They ate spaghetti together. He told the skeleton it was wonderful. He’d given all the praise to Papyrus. Something in the skeleton’s chest died a little, a cold, constricting feeling wrapping around his soul.

“HUMAN FRIEND,” Papyrus said gently. Cedric looked up from the book, eyes boredly looking over to observe the distraught skeleton. “YOU DIDN’T LIKE MY SPAGHETTI?”

The face that smiled at him, the one that gave little chuckles at Papyrus’ antics, now was most similar to how a scientist would observe a roach. With detached interest and just the slightest bit of disgust.

“Oh, no, Papyrus. It’s not the spaghetti that’s wrong,” his cool voice came and raised Papyrus’ hopes just a little. “It’s you.” The skeleton’s face fell. “It’s your loud voice, your pushy nature, and your incessant need to be friends with everyone.” Cedric’s eyes returned to his book. “For the “Mascot of Monsters” you’re awfully unobservant.”

“WH-WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

The human dropped the book and held the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Must I spell everything out for you, you dull creature?” He raised his arm to gesture toward the whole classroom. “No one. Wants. To. Be. Your. Friend.”

Papyrus thought he was a calm monster, after all he had been a sentry. He trained day and night to become as strong as he was. He’d thought his non-existent skin would be thick enough to handle insults or jabs. Papyrus was wrong to think that he’d be able to endure such harsh words from a perceived friend.

The skeleton felt his ribs clench, everything tensing up as though he had taken a blow. With a burst of speed he’d never usually display in front of humans in fear of scaring them, Papyrus grabbed his bag and raced out of the room. Long legs carried him across campus, but he didn’t have in mind where he was escaping to. All he wanted to do was escape his emotions, run from that clenching pain in his torso, and hide from the sadness that pierced holes in his hands and feet.

Papyrus’ run slowed down when the sky darkened and he took stock of his surroundings. How he managed to run all the way to the forests at the base of Mount Ebott escaped Papyrus at the moment. It was among the trees and sky cooling to an indigo that the skeleton dropped to his knees and cried.

He knew he was being loud, but he couldn’t help his volume as he cried out in despair. The moss was his only witness and the grass wouldn’t tell a soul how the Mascot of all Monsters ended up crying his soul out, apologizing to no one about being pushy and overbearing.

Papyrus took out his phone, staring at the screen through orange tears. He couldn’t see a single message on it through his tears. The skeleton wiped away tears, but each one wiped was replaced with ten more. In his frustration at not being able to see the screen, Papyrus threw the phone down against the ground.

_ CRACK _

He stopped sobbing for a brief second, realizing he’d thrown his phone, not at soft dirt and grass, but on the surface of a hard, flat rock. Now no one could call him. Papyrus’ teeth clenched as his arms snapped to hold himself in a hug, letting out pain through his teeth.

“Hello?”

Papyrus’ head snapped up, blearily looking around the dark forest. In between two large oaks, stood a thin woman, leaning toward him and staring at him with concern.

Papyrus, in his surprise, held his backpack to his chest, some barrier between this woman and himself. She came closer, movements fluid like a dancer and frame just as petit as one. Her white dress fluttered in a cool breeze that smelled like yarrow and something undefined, the slight spicy scent covering something sweet and subtle.

“AH,” he cleared his throat. “HELLO, HUMAN!” Papyrus really hoped she couldn’t hear the cracks in his voice. “I’M SORRY IF I INTERRUPTED YOUR NIGHTLY RUN?” The woman kept approaching. “I APOLOGIZE, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THAT’S ME, ISN’T QUITE FEELING TOO… GREAT. I’LL COME BACK SOME OTHER TIME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF BETTER.” The skeleton began to stand, brushing off dirt and blades of grass, and stopped mid brush to see the woman just a few inches from him. She regarded him with silver eyes, eyebrows drawing closer to make a concerned expression.

“Great one, what troubles you so?” she asked, a curious lilt to her bell-like voice. “Surely your troubles must be many for you to mistake me for mundane.”

“ERM,” Papyrus stepped back, surprised at the woman’s closeness, and even more perplexed to her following his step back. “LITTLE HUMAN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” The skeleton kept back-pedaling until he collided with a tree. The woman gave him an annoyed expression.

“I await your response, most curious one,” she cocked her head. “A monster gracing my presence, such a thing hasn’t been done for quite some time.” Her voice had a musical quality to it, as though she were singing a song Papyrus had never heard. “And no magic being has ever confused me for what I’m not.”

Papyrus gave the strange woman a look, eye looking for something to give her away as a monster. Horns? No. Tail? Nada. Pointed ears? N- wait, yes. Papyrus’ face lit up in glee.

“AH! THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNOWS WHAT YOU ARE!” Papyrus took a dramatic stance pointing at the small woman. She straightened up, smiling at Papyrus, expectantly awaiting his declaration. “YOU ARE AN ELF!”

The “elf” dropped her shoulder, face falling as well as disappointment flooded her features. Not only did she look let down, but she looked hurt, as though he had personally kicked her puppy. Papyrus realized he may have come to the wrong conclusion.

“Woe is me, to have been mistaken for a creature I am not,” she hugged herself and looked ready to cry. “Wherefore has the Great Papyrus given me a title I can’t live under. Surely his Greatness knows a fae when he comes across one!” The fae buried her face in her hands, ears flushed pink at the tips.

“I’M SORRY, FAE WOMAN,” Papyrus rushed to apologize and came closer. She didn’t look up at him. He rushed to think of some kind of apology gift. His mind immediately jumped to offering her spaghetti, but the cutting criticism resounded in his head, making his face drop. He reached out a hand to comfort the woman, only realizing the most likely response he’d receive.

Not one human he’d found on the surface would willingly accept his touch. Certainly, when the monsters had left the mountain, doctors and scientists would poke and prod to their heart’s content, but if Papyrus reached out to hug or touch a human, they’d recoil, as though he lashed out at them with a whip. He had tried his hardest not to let it get to him, but each recoil left a mark on his soul.

The fae didn’t jump back. She didn’t screech at him to get away from her. She did, however, lower her arms and look up at him. Her eyes were devoid of tears and full of the same silver that hung over the skies at night. Papyrus watched her eyes for a moment, caught up in a very similar moment to the one he experienced that first night under the stars after the barrier broke.

Papyrus realized he was staring and his zygomatic arches lit up in a sunset orange color. “LITTLE FAE,” he said, watching her blink in acknowledgement. “I’M SORRY FOR THINKING YOU WERE A HUMAN OR AN ELF. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER INTENTIONALLY HURT SOMEONE. I HAVE SOME mediocre PASTA I CAN GIVE YOU IN AN APOLOGY.”

She gave him a disconcerted look. “You mean to tell me you will gift me something not made by you?”

Papyrus shook his head as he put down his backpack and began to dig through it for his own pasta he was going to eat during his lunch. “NO, NO. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER GIVE AWAY A GIFT,” the woman nodded as though this were something obvious. “I HAVE MADE THE PASTA YOU ARE ABOUT TO RECEIVE.”

The fae frowned at him. “Pardon me, great one, but how can you create something adequate if you profess to be great?” She looked very confused, the lilt in her voice rising at the end of each question. “Forgive me for being too blunt, but the great do not create less than that.”

Somehow, Papyrus felt pride rise through him, spine straightening out. “YOU HAVEN’T EVEN TRIED IT YET, HOW DO YOU KNOW IT IS GREAT?” Cedric’s disappointed face flashed across his vision. “PERHAPS THE PASTA ISN’T GREAT BECAUSE I… BECAUSE I’M NOT…”

The strange woman shook her head. “If you were not great, I could not refer to you as the great one. Simply put, you exist as your title suggests,” she fixed him with a look that froze him. “I do not see any traits that rob you of your greatness, therefore you are as you say. The Great Papyrus.”

Cedric’s face vanished from Papyrus’ vision at the woman’s word, tears threatening to pool at his eyes again, but held back by his smile and self-control. He gave her a nod and pulled out the container of pasta.

The woman nodded her head and sat down, previous upsetness completely gone and now replaced with elegant anticipation. Yarrow and… _ lavender _ that was it! filled the clearing, before being broken by the scent of butter and salt carried by the pasta. Papyrus placed the container right in front of the kneeling fae, pulling out a fork and placing it on the ground next to the container. He played with his hands nervously as he watched the fae stare down at his offering.

She touched the container with a dainty hand, a sudden gentle smile going over her face. Almost in a trance, her other hand traced the plastic, lovingly staring down at the pasta. The scent of pasta was washed away by lavender, the little fae’s growing pleasure passing along an excited air to Papyrus. He hopped a little, grinning at her seeming happiness at the presentation.

“WELL,” Papyrus gestured toward the fork. “AREN’T YOU GOING TO TRY IT?” The woman looked up with childlike glee, a grin stretching across her face. She looked ecstatic to receive this gift. Her hand reached down to grasp the fork…

...only to immediately fling it away with a yelp, other hand reaching to cradle the hand she used to grab the fork. At first Papyrus was confused, until he saw the faerie’s hand glow red and the scent of burned flesh purge the clearing of lavender. The fae curled up around her hand, wincing and clutching it close.

“LITTLE FAE, WHAT’S WRONG?” Papyrus knelt down next to the fae, hands hovering in confusion and desire to reach down and help. “WHY IS YOUR HAND BURNED?”

A sarcastic chuckle seeped with pain replied from the faerie in her ball. “Does the great one truely not know what he’s brought to my domain? Wherefore art thine smiles so sweet, but thine dagger so sharp?” A hard silver eye looked up at him, her grin no longer childlike in nature, but angry and callous. “Did I somehow offend thee? Mine courtesy has been boundless and mine gift of distraction not given in malice.”

Papyrus frowned, beginning to feel that he’d done something wrong. “I’M SORRY, I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” he looked down at the pasta, feelings from before rising up. “DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG? LITTLE FAE, PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO FIX THIS?”

The woman was silent for a while, white dress beginning to pick up green from the grass. She sat up, holding her hand to her chest while looking at Papyrus with suspicion. “Doth thee not knoweth how thee've did hurt me? Behold,” the faerie held out her hand, now blackened and charred. Papyrus gasped and reached out to cradle the hand. “Truly, you don't know how you have hurt me,” she leaned back, letting Papyrus hold the burned hand as gently as he could. “The fair folk have a weakness to the bowels of the earth, her iron being too solid and constant in nature for our flighty natures to be able to hold.”

Papyrus focused on healing the dainty hand, green magic surrounding the hand in an attempt to bring back to the deft hand he’d seen before. A relieved grin rose on his skull as the hand repaired itself, until it came to the fingers. The charred skin remained on the fingertips, stubbornly refusing to heal.

“LITTLE FAE, I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY IT WON’T HEAL,” Papyrus said in frustration. The woman twisted her hand away and put it to her chest as she let a gentle smile come up her face for reassurance.

“As I have said prior, the earth’s gift of iron is one we fae cannot accept. Neither is the consequence for touching it as simple to rid as one does a scrape.”

“REALLY, I AM SOR-” Papyrus attempted to apologize, but the woman raised her hand in interruption.

“Please preserve your apologies. If you were to hand your words out as though they were sweets, they would diminish in value,” she gave him a humoured look. “I am certain a great one would prefer their apologies to be greatly valued.”

“YES, BUT-”

“Ah, ah,” the fae shot him down. “If you are insistent on giving me a gift, be it apology or other tokens, may I choose one?”

The skeleton’s hands wrung together. “I FEEL I’VE MESSED UP QUITE A BIT TONIGHT,” he started, keeping his eyes on the spaghetti that had gone untouched. “I’D LIKE TO MAKE AMENDS, HOWEVER I CAN.”

A greedy glint appeared in the woman’s eyes. For a brief moment, Papyrus felt as though he’d said something very out-of-line. He felt appraised for a moment, his value being weighed, and felt vulnerable for that moment.

“Be careful, dear Papyrus,” the woman said in hushed tones, her musical sentences dropping their lilt and the playful nature in her words. “You’ve put yourself in a very vulnerable position to ask forgiveness of a fae. Even worse to acknowledge a debt.” She looked him over, something akin to sadness flashing over her face, but quickly replacing itself with a steeled expression. “I will ask you two gifts.”

Papyrus nodded, preparing himself for a ridiculous demand. Surely he had enough gold to pay her off. Unless if she were like Muffet. Then he might never be able to find a way to pay. The woman stood and the nightly air blew around her figure, the scent of yarrow and lavender taking back the clearing and overpowering any nightly scents. She raised two fingers, both on her damaged hand.

“I first request from you, The Great Papyrus, a new name,” her voice was full of power, the musical tone back, but dancing to a powerful, impossibly quiet song. Her eyes stared down at him, mirroring the moon in the sky in color and depth.

“My second re-” Papyrus raised his hand. The wind stilled and the woman looked at him in confusion.

“UM, SORRY, BUT,” Papyrus scratched the top of his skull. “WHY DO YOU NEED A NEW NAME, FAE? IF YOU HAVE ONE ALREADY, I CAN USE IT.”

She searched his face for a moment before giving him a gentle smile. “Great one, names give us power. It’s a reflection of who we are and what people think of us.” She gave him a smirk. “I hold quite a bit of interest in what you will name me, Great Papyrus.” For some odd reason, Papyrus felt warmth travel to his skull as her voice dipped on his name. He waved a gloved hand for her to proceed.

“My second request from you, The Great Papyrus,” she held a hand out to him, this one perfect and unmarred. “Is to live in your domain.”

"UM, WHAT?"

She grinned, "I will live with you."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2 hours because I couldn't sleep. Enjoy my ramblings. IDK when I'll update. Hope y'all enjoy. Leave a comment, concern, tell me what you like/dislike, or if you found a spelling or grammar error. I'm probably going to have smut much later in the story. Mostly this story will be Papyrus/Reader, but I'm probably going to toss Sans into this later because I'm hot undertale trash.


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